


Control

by memewife



Series: Wayhaven Week 2020 [6]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Ava Gets Topped for once, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25360420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memewife/pseuds/memewife
Summary: Irena has decided to take her time shattering Ava tonight.---Ava gets topped, then takes a bit of revenge.
Relationships: Female Detective/Ava du Mortain
Series: Wayhaven Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827400
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosejelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosejelly/gifts).



> Prompt 7 for Wayhaven Week 2020: Shatter, with a hint of Mend

Trust is something neither Ava nor Irena give freely. It must be earned over time, they must be shown that the smallest bit was not a mistake. Ava has lived long enough, _seen_ enough of what humans do to know that trust often amounts to precious little. Some would call her jaded, perhaps, but she knows that she’s simply using her observations to draw a reasonable conclusion. Ava is surprised to find that, despite experiencing so little, Irena’s come to the same answer. Caution undergirds her easygoing, optimistic surface, masked well enough that it took some time for Ava to notice. Over time, though, subtle tensions faded, politeness made way to teasing, and searching glances became less analytical. Irena trusts Unit Bravo. She trusts Ava. Perhaps to an unwise extent. But then again, Ava trusts Irena too.

So much so that when she broached the subject of taking control in the bedroom, Ava considered it. She listened carefully as Irena explained that she enjoys taking the lead, and while she greatly enjoys Ava’s initiative, she’s curious about just how enticing it would be to unravel her slowly. The words sunk into a comfortable quiet before Ava agreed, with a single condition: that she be allowed to return the favor. It was an easy ask.

And so they find themselves in a familiar, comfortable situation, pressed against each other just inside the doorway of Irena’s apartment. They don’t kiss yet, instead allowing tension to build as they meet each other’s eyes, Ava’s already burning with a quiet intensity and Irena’s pupils are blown-out from desire. They hold the stare for a moment that stretches, both unwilling to be the first to break it and lose their little game. Eventually, though, Ava moves, pinning Irena back against the wall with her hips and angling her head down. She’s wasted enough time already.

But Ava stops as her lips meet a fingertip. Her eyes flick open, irritation evident in her small frown even as she leans into the touch. It’s gentle and resolute, enough to make her halt. Irena admires her for a moment, deep gold strands of hair falling loose from her bun, mouth hanging open ever so slightly, want plain to see. She smiles and Ava bites back a growl.

“A little impatient, aren’t we?” The way her eyes sparkle as she keeps her voice smooth and low is absolutely exhilarating. “Remember, you’re following my lead tonight.” Almost agonizingly slow, she trails her finger down, along Ava’s jaw, then her neck, and finally tracing her collarbone. She can’t help her shiver, skin heating at even the slight contact.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Ava manages after taking a second to compose herself. It’s not so much an accusation as a statement of fact. Irena’s smile turns a little more into a smirk, giving Ava a half-lidded gaze through thick, dark lashes.

“Maybe,” she admits, drawing out the word. “I hope you know I intend to test the limits of your restraint.” She darts her tongue over her lips, both wetting them and catching Ava’s attention. “I expect a lot from you.”

Ava’s scoff is gentle. “Is that supposed to be a challenge?” 

“I haven’t made it difficult yet.” Irena moves in to kiss Ava’s neck once before putting an insistent pressure at her shoulder. With only a hint of disappointment, she steps back and allows Irena to slip back toward her living room. Almost as though it’s an afterthought, Irena hooks a finger through one of Ava’s belt loops and pulls her along to the bedroom. 

Irena has decided to take her time shattering Ava tonight. 

“Sit,” she commands simply. Her voice is firmer than before, but Ava can’t help the slight smile on her face as she perches at the edge of the edge of the bed. 

“You don’t intend to use the handcuffs on me, do you?” Amusement plays in her eyes as Irena draws closer, smoothing her hands over her clothed shoulders. “They wouldn’t be able to hold me.”

“Of course not. Your hands will be completely free.” Irena’s attentions turn to Ava’s skin, but soon her focus is on ridding her of her shirt. It feels like it should be a crime to hide something so beautiful, but Irena also can’t help feeling pleased that she alone has been given the privilege of seeing it. She traces the lines of Ava’s muscles with feather-light touches, reveling in the way that her eyes flutter shut and she arches just so slightly into her fingers. She’s nearly entranced enough to forget that she has yet to explain. “Your hands will be free, but I ask that you not touch yourself or me.” When Ava looks up to her now, Irena’s smile has a less than innocent edge. “I’m sure you’ll be able to control yourself.” 

Ava quirks a brow, but she finds herself with a bit of a smile too. As meticulous of a planner as her love usually is, she shouldn’t be surprised that Irena has thought this through so well, nor that she’s crafted a game of denial. After all, Ava knows it far too well. And she’s prepared to give it back tenfold. “I’d be insulted if you expected anything else from me.”

“You already know I think the world of you.” Irena leans down to press a gentle kiss to Ava’s forehead, then her cheek, then finally her lips. Ava’s hands leave the comforter, moving to Irena’s back on instinct, but she stops just short, instead hanging dangerously close. Irena laughs far too sweetly and Ava drops her arms with a heavy sigh. “Good catch, my love. You’re doing so well already.”

“You’re a horrible tease.” Even worse than usual, it seems, as Irena steps back, out of direct reach but still so tantalizingly close. Ava could move, grab her far more quickly than she could possibly comprehend, then have her way with her. She lets out a low growl, watching raptly as Irena makes a show of unbuttoning her shirt, sliding down her skirt, exposing more and more tender flesh. 

“Guilty as charged.” Irena catches her hungry stare as she saunters back in closer, coming finally to a stop between Ava’s parted thighs, brushing against them ever so slightly. Ava’s breath catches in her traitorous throat. She shouldn’t be allowing this to affect her so easily. But she gives in, as she always seems to with Irena. She leans back on her hands, taking a moment to temper the desire rising in her as Irena tugs off her sweats in one smooth motion.

“Well? Are you going to do more than just ogle me?” Ava’s challenge is clear, testing, but her fists stay obediently balled in the sheets. Irena crooks a finger under Ava’s chin, tilting it up as she moves her face in.

“In time, my dear.” Ava inhales, long and slow. Hot breath tickles her skin and she wills herself not to react, at least not outwardly. Her lips press into a thin line.

“If that’s what you want.” Though Ava fights to keep her voice measured, it hitches as Irena worms her fingers under her sports bra, ridding her of that too, leaving only underwear that is soon similarly discarded.

“All I want is you, Ava. You and your absolutely _breathtaking_ body.” Irena winks playfully and Ava rolls her eyes. Any indignance is cut short, however, when Irena surges forward, settling herself in Ava’s lap and angling her head to scrape gently against Ava’s neck. “Won’t you let me savor you?” Irena’s rewarded with a choked moan as Ava’s hands twitch at her side. _Not yet_. Ava would never allow herself to lose so easily, no matter how urgently appealing the thought of ripping away the black, lacy thing Irena passes off as a bra is. No. She holds out for the promise of reciprocating, even as Irena’s kisses and lips reach the juncture of her neck and shoulder, even as she starts to knead her breasts and draw lazy circles around her nipples. Every single point of contact between them feels like a spark, impossibly hot and clouding Ava’s thoughts. 

Irena rolls her hips against Ava with a muffled moan, and all Ava can think of is how easy it would be to flip her over, caress her, watch her quiver. She nearly follows through, but again her hands stop just short of contact, falling back in a flash. “Need me to go easy on you? I haven’t even gotten to the good part,” Irena murmurs, voice coming out steady in spite of her obvious restlessness.

“No.” Ava’s response comes ragged, but forceful enough to make Irena smirk.

“Then keep your hands by your side.” There’s that gentle, but firm tone again. It’s far more alluring than Ava imagined it would be, but perhaps that’s a product of the haze of arousal. Irena watches her for a few heartbeats, surveying her for any signs she will move again before nodding in approval and diving back in. This time, Irena’s fingers edge downward, stroking first the lean muscle of her legs, then finally touching her properly.

Ava lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, allowing her hips to rise to meet the soft touch. Irena’s free hand leaves her breast, but before she can complain, she’s pulled into a passionate kiss, Irena pulling at her hair tie insistently. Between the way Irena catches her bottom lip between her teeth and the way her hand’s rhythm speeds, Ava’s far too engrossed to notice her hair fall in stiff, golden waves around her shoulders. She does, unsurprisingly, notice Irena’s hand ball up in it, spurring her on. But it’s not long before Irena needs to breathe.

“Irena, please, just let me touch you.” Ava does not _beg_ , but there’s a sense of urgency to her tone. She refuses to lose their game, but she needs to be able to feel her, to pull her close as she comes undone, an end she’s quickly hurtling towards. Irena fixes her with a breathless smile and her hand slows to an agonizing pace. Ava’s close, but not nearly enough.

“I’m not done yet.” Ava suppresses a groan, and Irena’s apology comes as a kiss. “Can you blame me? You look wonderful like this.” She elects not to mention all the times Ava’s done the very same to her. It would be dangerous to give her ideas now, so she opts to focus on her ministrations again.

They continue this way for some time, Irena leading Ava close to the edge, lingering there for a precious moment, then holding back once more. By the time Irena finally decides to show her mercy, Ava’s got her teeth grit and the sheets gripped so tightly she threatens to wear a hole in them.

“Irena.” Ava’s voice is strained, but a pleading note manages to make it through her tension. Irena pulls back from Ava’s neck to look her over before making eye contact. She’s always beautiful, yes, but there’s something extra special about the red of her cheeks and the frantic look in her typically guarded eyes. She’s enchanting, and Irena only wishes she could capture this side of her every night. For now, though, she settles for a long, deep kiss and pressing further into her. It’s enough to draw a gasping moan from her.

“Touch me, Ava.” Before Irena’s even so much as done saying her name, Ava’s hands are on her, squeezing her, pulling her into a heated kiss. Irena, in turn, doubles her efforts, continuing to caress Ava even as she starts to tense. The feeling is all-encompassing, an intense heat that makes her forget herself. It’s all she can do to muffle her moan in the crook of Irena’s neck, shuddering as her fingers slowly work her through the comedown.

Ava takes a few seconds to catch her breath and enjoy the way Irena hums and runs her fingers through her hair. Of course, it’s only a blissful few seconds, and Ava can still sense her arousal. Even without the sensitivity, the damp spot on her thigh is a clear giveaway. 

“Look at me,” she commands, shifting Irena back on her lap to allow her a better view. “Look at the mess you’ve made of me.” Ava’s eyes manage to be particularly piercing as she drinks in the sight of her lover: flushed, pleased with herself, and practically begging to be fucked.

“You’re ravishing,” Irena whispers. Ava needs this- _her_ \- so desperately now. She needs to see her trembling, needs to hear her gasps and pants, needs to taste her. Taste? No, that’s far too tame a word. She needs to _devour_ her.

Patience long gone, Ava gathers Irena in her arms, depositing her roughly in the space she just occupied herself. It takes her little time at all to nudge her way between Irena’s thighs, only pausing to sweep her hair back into a rushed ponytail. Skimpy, flimsy lace is tugged to the side, nothing more than an aggravating obstacle now. Ava glances up to find dark, honey-colored eyes shining with excitement. It’s not how Ava usually chooses to take her, but it only feels appropriate now. Hiking Irena’s legs up over her shoulders, Ava presses a quick kiss to each thigh before she takes her revenge.

Irena’s riled herself enough to make it easy, far too easy for her to finish. Still, she finds her release on Ava’s tongue, arching her back as an iron grip keeps her hips firmly in place. The onslaught is unrelenting, though it does change forms. Ava slicks two fingers hastily before pressing into her. She starts slowly, taking the opportunity to observe Irena. She’s still lovely, still flushed, leaning back and propped up on an elbow. As Ava meets her gaze, she holds out a hand. Ava takes it, pressing an almost chaste kiss to the back of it before intertwining their fingers. She squeezes once, then lowers her head to tease Irena with her tongue once more. Through her combined efforts, Ava coaxes a second peak from her, followed quickly by a third. 

Finally, Irena gives in, pushing herself up into a sitting position and gently urging Ava’s head away. She complies, pulling back and drying her face on her arm before leaning in for a kiss. It’s quick- Irena’s still trying to calm her racing heart and heavy breathing- but it’s perfect. Their hands stay joined, even as Ava hefts her into the air as though she weighs nothing at all. This time, when Ava settles her, they move together, shifting into their usual places and an easy, comfortable intimacy. Irena looks exhausted, hair wild, cheeks blazing pink, and a sheen of sweat across her skin. She takes a deep breath and breaks their shared quiet.

“Please tell me you liked that as much as I did.” Irena laughs, breathless as she waits for her body to cool enough to close the distance between them. Ava curls a cool hand against her hot cheek, then smiles enough that Irena swears she catches a glimpse of dimples.

“Of course. You did better than I expected.” Ava marvels at her girlfriend. The way she fights sleep even as her eyelids droop is admirable, though futile. Another little oddity Ava finds herself treasuring.

“I love you,” Irena manages to mumble, shifting forward to touch her forehead to Ava’s.

“I love you too.” Ava’s reply is gentle, but it carries a deliberate weight. Irena resigns herself to sleep now, only offering a tired hum in reply, but Ava knows she understands. That’s all she needs. 

She embraces Irena loosely, listening for her heart and the slow rise of her chest. They soothe her, far more than she cares to admit even now, even reaching the jagged edges Ava buries deep. She always thought that old wounds were meant to scar, dulling in pain yet never truly healing. But then Irena became her world and changed the rules. Centuries of the same, tired existence simply parading in different skins thrown off-kilter by one human woman. After nearly a millennium, Ava is on the mend. 


End file.
